“Okay, that’s gonna be—” she frowns as her computer makes a noise like a siren. “Oh, that’s gonna be a lot.” She turns the screen to face me. A number with four digits displays.
“My insurance should cover it.” I dig my card from my wallet and hand it to her.
She types in the number dutifully, then shakes her head. “It says the policy isn’t active.” That couldn’t have just happened yesterday. But then again, neither could all of my parents’ belongings being moved out of the house.When were you going to tell me?
I hand the pharmacist my credit card to pay out of pocket. The payment pad thinks for a while.Card declined. I try another card.Declined. And a third.Declined.
The pharmacist gives me a sympathetic look. “We have options for patients who aren’t able to pay at this time.”
Options. What I have fewer and fewer of. A hot bright light of pain is working its way into my temple.This isn’t supposed to be happening. And yet it is. I roll my shoulders back and try to summon my dignity. They can’t repo that. “Thank you for mentioning those options,” I say, in my best country-club princess voice. “But I’ll refill it another time.”
I carry myself out to my car, head high. Dial my father’s number. It goes to voicemail. “My cards aren’t working,” I say. “My insurance is saying the policy’s cut off. Were you going to tell me about any of this?” My voice goes sharp.If you’ve lost your temper, you’ve lost the negotiation.
But this isn’t a business deal, it’s my life. And right now I’m not just broke—it feels like I’m falling apart.
“Victoria!!!”I yell my best friend’s name as soon as she gets into the house party. My head feels better—my one remaining pill worked how it was supposed to.If only that would apply to everything else.
After I got back to my dorm, I decided to worry about all of this tomorrow. Sometimes you need to confront your issues like an adult and sometimes you need a hard seltzer and to sweat out all your worries. If thatsweatinghappens to be with a member of our college baseball team…
Usually, I’d have to drag Victoria to a party like this, but I’ve only been here for a few minutes when she comes in. Only she looks different. Good different.
I make my way through the crowd and spin her around. “Is that a tan? Are those new highlights? Are you wearinglashes?”
Victoria goes a faintly embarrassed pink. “Um, yeah.”
“You look so fucking good.” It’s possible I’m already a little drunk. Whoops.
“Stop, you’re making me feel like the ugly duckling.”
“More like the hot-ass swan.” I go to the cooler, pluck out a can of hard seltzer, and hand it to her.
She cracks it and takes a long sip. “Jonathan told me the team was coming.” That blush intensifies.
“Oh,Jonathandid, did he?” I knew she worked for the team; I didn’t know she and Jonathan Halperin—who’s so good at baseball even I know he’s good at baseball and I don’t know anything about baseball—were actual friends. Maybe more than friends from the way she goes even redder.
“It’s not like that,” she protests.
Though it seems like it’s very much like that. “They’re in the other room”—I gesture to the back room—“holding court or whatever.”
But Victoria doesn’t go. Instead she sticks near me, and we spend our time giggling about stuff on our phones and gossiping about people around campus. It’s fun—she’s my best friend and this is the most normal I’ve felt all week—but she keeps glancing at the other room as if she wants to go in there and just needs the courage to do so.
Maybe what she needs is a tiny push. Even after a few hard seltzers, my vision is completely clear—no migraine. I gesture to the room around us. “All right, I’m getting an aura.”
Victoria goes immediately into nurse mode. “What do you need? We can leave.”
I shake my head. “I’m gonnadark little roomit for a while, but you’re not going anywhere. So enough wall-flowering. You’re gonna dance.” I scan the room until I find someone perfect, then wave. “Hey, c’mere.”
Mike Pappalardo glances behind himself facetiously, then he spots Victoria next to me and comes over as if pulled on a line.
Now Victoria isn’t just slightly blushing—she’s full-on pink. Mike has a reputation—I’ve never slept with him, but that probably puts me in a minority on campus. But Victoria should have a little fun; Mike is, from what I hear, a lot of fun.
I shove them toward each other. “C’mon, you’re dancing with Victoria,” I say.
Mike offers a hand, but despite the makeover, Victoria hasn’t lost hergood girltendencies. “Sav, I should help you get home,” she says.
“Have a good time—that would help me.” And before she can object, I slip off through the crowd, but not before I see Mike put his hand in hers.
Outside, it’s a beautiful, clear night even for San Diego. I sit for a few minutes on the porch, enjoying it and not thinking about how—if—I’m going to be able to pay for Morningside.
